Job 30
1 But now people much younger than me laugh at me; people whose fathers I would not put to work with my sheepdogs.
Fe itsikihan-jaiko henaneo, ie tsy ho nimeiko hindrezan-droae’ iareo o amboan’ añondrikoo.
2 They are too weak to be any use to me; they're all worn-out.
Eka! hataoko ino’ ty herin-taña’ iareo? Ie fa modo ty hagañ’oza’ iareo?
3 Thin through hunger and want, they try to eat the dry ground in the dark, desolate wilderness.
Miheahea naho poie’e vaho saliko iereo, draote’ iereo ty tane kànkañe ie nimontoñe naho tanan-taolo te omale.
4 There they pick desert herbs and the leaves of bushes, and eat the roots of broom trees.
Tsindrohe’ iereo ty aña-mafaitse miharo vahon-tsoy, fihina’iareo ty vahan-jañapoly.
5 They were driven out of the community.
Sinoik’ an-drolongo’e iareo, nikoraheñe hoe t’ie malaso.
6 People shouted after them as if they were thieves. They have to live in dangerous ravines, in caves and among the rocks.
Aa le mimoneñe am-bavatane mampangebahebak’ ao iereo, an-dakatom-bato naho an-kadahan-tane ao.
7 They shout out like animals among the bushes; they huddle together in the weeds for shelter.
Mikoaike boak’an-drongoñe ao, mihimpok’ añ’antak’ ao.
8 They are foolish, nameless people that have been driven from the land.
Anan-dagola, anake po-tahinañe, nasiotsiotse amy taney.
9 Yet now they mock me in their songs; I have become a joke to them!
Bekobekoe’ iareo iraho henaneo toe fandrabioña’ iareo.
10 They despise and shun me; they don't hesitate to spit in my face.
Heje’ iereo vintañe, ihankaña’ iareo, tsy apo’ iareo ty mandrora an-tareheko.
11 God has made my bowstring loose and humbled me.
Amy te navotso’e ty tàlem-pale’e le nitrofahe’e iraho, vaho ahifi’ iereo laboridy te miatrek’ ahy.
12 The rabble rise up against me, they send me running; like a city under siege they devise ways to destroy me.
Mitroatse an-kavanako eo o tora’eo; fehefehè’ iereo o tombokoo vaho atroa’ iareo amako ty satam- pandrotsaha’ iareo.
13 They cut off my way of escape; they bring about my downfall and do this without anyone's help.
Trobotroboe’ iereo o lalakoo, indrà’ iareo amako o feh’ ohatseo, ndra t’ie tsy amam-pañolotse.
14 They come in through a wide breach; they rush in as the wall comes tumbling down.
Mizilike hoe mb’an-jeba’e mitañataña ao iareo; Iboroboñafa’ iareo i rinotsakey le mikidiadia’ mb’etoy.
15 Terrors overcome me; my honor is blown away by the wind; my salvation vanishes like a cloud.
Natolik’ amako o fampirevendreveñañeo; heañe’ iereo hoe tioke ty asiko; fa nihelañe añe hoe rahoñe ty fandrombahako.
16 And now my life is ebbing away; every day despair grips me.
Ie henaneo, fa nadoañe amako ato ty fiaiko; fa mifelek’ ahy o andro nanotriañe ahikoo.
17 At night my bones are in agony; the pain gnaws at me and never stops.
Tsipohe’e haleñe o taolakoo, vaho tsy mitofa ty fikotekotehañe ahy.
18 God grabs me roughly by my clothes; he pulls me by the collar of my shirt.
Mampiroñaroña o sikikoo i fañindra’e mafey vaho vihine’e iraho manahake i kolen’ akanjokoy.
19 He has thrown me in the mud; he has humbled me like dust and ashes.
Fa navokovoko’e am-potak’ ao iraho, le ninjare hoe lavenoke naho deboke.
20 God, I cry to you but you don't answer; I stand before you, but you don't even notice me.
Mikaik’ imba ama’o raho fe tsy toiñe’o; miongake fe angarefa’o.
21 You have turned cruel to me; you use your power to make me suffer.
Toe mpampisoañe ahy irehe: an-kaozaram-pità’o ty isareraha’o.
22 You pick me up and blow me along in the wind; tossing me about in the whirlwind.
Ampionjone’o mb’amy tiokey mb’eo, naho ampiningira’o, fe atrana’o amy tio-beiy.
23 I know you're taking me to my death, to the place where all the living go.
Apotako t’ie hasese’o mb’an-kavetrahañe mb’eo, mb’añ’anjombam-pifañaoña’ ze kila veloñe.
24 Who would want to kick a man when he is down, when they cry for help in their time of trouble?
Aa tsy hañity ty fità’e hao ty am-botrim-piantoañe eo? tsy hikoik’ imba hao t’ie mizò hekoheko?
25 Didn't I weep for those having hard times? Didn't I grieve at what the poor suffered?
Tsy nitañiako hao ty nian-kòheke? Tsy nampihontoke ty troko hao o rarakeo?
26 But when I looked for good, only evil came, and when I waited for the light, all that came was darkness.
Izaho nitama hasoa, pok’eo ty raty; ie nandiñe hazavàñe nihohohe’ ty ieñe.
27 Inside I am in turmoil, it never stops; I face days of despair.
Mikokèntrekokèntreñe ty añovako ao le tsy mitofa; atreatrén-tsan-kasotriañe.
28 I am so depressed; seeing the sun doesn't help. I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
Mijarabajaraba añ’ ieñe ao tsy amam-panjirik’ andro, miongak’ am-pivory naho mikaik’ imba.
29 I am like a brother to the jackals, a companion to owls.
Fa rahalahim-panaloke iraho, rañe’ o voron-tsatrañeo.
30 My skin turns black on me; and my bones burn within me.
Mikò-mainte amako ty holiko, mitsovovoke o taolakoo ami’ty hasilo’e.
31 My lyre only plays sad songs, and my pipe is the voice of those who weep.
Aa le mivali-ko feon-kontoke ty marovaniko, naho feom-pandala ty soliko
